Hans-Christoph Schwab
Sunday 15th March 1964 was, according to the official account, “a fine spring afternoon with sunshine… and spring tides flooding.” The students responsible for manning the rescue boats were apparently in the shower when the call arrived: a dinghy had capsized several times near Southerndown, the two men on board “were frozen and unable to upright the boat” and “their chances of survival without rescue were nil.”
The student-built boat, Aphrodite, launched for its first major rescue. Steering through seven- foot waves, Aphrodite’s all-German crew reached the stricken sailors and hauled them out of the freezing water.
“Getting back to shore, we felt good about the rescue service having been able to help in a real life situation.” That was the rather modest reaction of Hans-Christoph Schwab, a key member of the rescue crew and an integral part of the “pioneer year”: the first group of students to take part in the “most exciting experiment in education since the Second World War,” as the Times called it.
Even in the first year, the West German selection process was fiercely competitive. Hans-Christoph Schwab was one of seven scholarship students, chosen after an initial application process and an interview in Bonn. One of the other boys recalls that Hans-Christoph stood out for being from a relatively disadvantaged background, but had an incredible drive to succeed.
For the German press, the seven scholarship students “embodied the goals of this international community” and were selected based on “intellect, imagination, intellectual independence and integrity.” They were under some pressure to excel, and Hans-Christoph did exactly that: in addition to his work with the rescue boats, he is still remembered by his co-years as an accomplished pianist, a participant in the National Fireball Championships, the Sailing Club’s representative on the Student Council, and as “a passionate lover of music and art.”
He spent the first ever Atlantic College Project Week hiking in the Brecon Beacons, and was part of a group travelling to London in the autumn of 1963. Naturally, the students were expected to drive the teachers… On the long journey back (at a time before the Severn Bridge existed), the clutch gave out and Hans-Christoph helped lead a group who were determined to get all the way to Wales by pushing the college van uphill and rolling downhill. Not surprisingly, the plan failed. The group eventually abandoned the van and headed for the nearest train station.
Hans-Christoph’s role during Atlantic College’s first (and only?) “séance” was also memorable. Following one of the Saturday night dances, a visiting girl insisted that she could arrange a meeting with “departed souls.” Anyone interested in “connecting with the souls” could meet in a small, dark room in the castle and form a circle around a table, hands spread out and only thumbs touching. The girl started mumbling and muttering, promising everyone that the table would soon start to move and a “presence” would appear. At exactly the right time, the table began to rock up and down… Disappointingly for some of the people in attendance, the cause was Hans-Christoph moving his knees underneath the table, rather than a visitor from the spirit world. His ruse was discovered and he was expelled from the séance, after which all traces of ghostly activity stopped.
After leaving the college in 1964, Hans-Christoph studied for a Law degree in Berlin, then took an MBA at Columbia, alongside his closest friend from AC. From 1973, he occupied various senior positions at Eli Lilly, the multinational pharmaceutical company. After settling in Brussels, he worked as Managing Director for Iulia Invest.
All his life, Hans-Christoph kept his blue Atlantic College scarf and stayed in touch with his co-years. His final visit to the college was for the 50-year reunion in 2014. Always thoughtful, he typed up a report on that reunion for friends who weren’t able to make it.
Particular thanks to Andreas Schwerdtfeger and François Paul-Cavallier (both AC 62-64) for their role in putting this piece together. The account of the first rescue leans on David Sutcliffe’s report from March 1963.
